


Anything You Can Do

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Julie's bet with Hecate is a surefire win.  There's no way the uptight rule-hugger can handle a week of teaching art classes, and all she has to do is teach a few lessons of chanting.  Easy, right?  Mumbroom.Inspired by a prompt from Heathtrash's amazing generator.
Relationships: Hardbroom/Julie Hubble
Comments: 33
Kudos: 91





	1. Anything You Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting fic? Amazing. Unpredictable. I didn't even know I was going to do it myself. 
> 
> Idea comes completely from Heathtrash's lovely generator of wonder.

“Miss Cackle, this farce has gone on far too long!”

“My classes are doing just fine,” Julie argued, fire burning in her eyes as she faced off against Hecate Hardbroom in the middle of the Headmistress’ office.

Ada sighed and lifted her hands, clearly at a loss. 

“Hecate—“

“A second year showed up to my potions class with paint _inside_ her socks. It is a clear safety hazard and a violation of everything this school once stood upon,” Hecate argued.

Julie didn’t hold back from rolling her eyes.

“It’s just a little _paint_. Beatrice is a bit expressive with her art, is all. It washes off.”

“Tell me, Miss Hubble, that contamination nearly caused her potion to melt through the table. Will that _wash off_ as well?”

“Ms,” Julie corrected for the third time since the discussion began. She crossed her arms and stood firm. Okay, so it sounded bad when she put it like that. Potions melting through tables could never sound good.

Teaching in a school had been Julie Hubble’s dream since she was a little girl herself, and while she loved finally achieving that at Cackle’s, Julie couldn’t deny that there were some issues she had failed to anticipate.

Magic, for one thing, had never been part of her vision for the future. Kids playing tricks on the teacher was par for the course, but these kids could do things from her wildest nightmares. Often these came with the mistakes expected from children, only about a million times more dangerous and less fun to clean up. And even when they behaved, magic came with a seemingly endless combination of complications—like, apparently, the fact that acrylic paint could make a potion turn to acid.

Living at the school, while hardly exclusive to magical institutions, had also been far from Julie’s ideal. She liked her home life separate from her work life, but now it was all messily entwined with Mildred sitting in her classes and students knocking on her door at all hours of the night.

Both of these surprises could have been dealt with after some adjustment, however, if not for the third issue in the form of Hecate Hardbroom.

Miss I’m-So-Magical had it out for her from the moment they met, and okay, Julie could see appearing with a toilet plunger probably wouldn’t make a very good first impression on _anyone_ , but it was hardly _her_ fault these witches had a penchant for transferring people around without warning. It only got worse when Miss Cackle introduced her as the new art teacher. Now Hecate was always there around every corner just waiting for the moment she slipped up.

“You just don’t appreciate art,” Julie rebutted, gliding past the potion incident to dig at the real issue. “I heard from Mildred all about how you were with the last art teacher, too.”

Hecate’s nostrils flared. “You mean the one who _encased the entire school in ice?!_ ” She turned away from Julie, looking ready to explode, and implored Miss Cackle, “Please see reason. I only wished to address the incompetency I have seen leading to danger in my classroom, but perhaps _Ms_ Hubble is correct. Perhaps we should be discussing a complete elimination of art classes from the Cackle’s curriculum. It has become quite clear they only lead to negligent danger at the best of times—”

“Now, now, Hecate. There’s no need to be so quite so drastic,” Ada said calmly, waving her hands in a show of ‘please calm down’ that only seemed to ruffle her feathers all the more. 

Before the tall brunette could go off on round two, Julie butted in. “Hey, now. You can insult my teaching all you want, but art is good for these kids. They need an outlet for expression that’s not just about rules all day.”

“Precisely…” Ada began, looking hopeful but trailing off and staring at Julie as if pleading with her to go on. Hecate turned her razor-sharp gaze on Julie.

“Are you implying there is an issue with having rules in a school?” she quipped. “Shall we simply let the students run amok and show up to class when they _feel_ like it?”

Julie sighed. “Of course not. I’m sure you have all sorts of rules in your potions room for good reason, and I respect that, but that’s not all school is about. Art is for doing what feels right and making something from what’s inside you.” Sensing Hecate was about to interject, she added, “Now I don’t let them go around running with scissors, mind, but what I mean is there are no rules for what the right results look like. Everyone needs a break to just let loose sometimes.”

“Well said, Miss Hubble,” Ada said, standing from her desk and clasping her hands together. “Now, if that’s settled, I really must be getting back t-”

“It most certainly is not settled,” Hecate said with an indignant huff. “Absolutely none of this resolves the issue of the potions incident.”

“As you said, it was an incident. I’m sure she’s learned to be more careful about where she lets paint end up next time,” Julie countered.

“Perhaps if you could do your job competently…”

“As if you could do it any better! You wouldn’t know the first thing about teaching art.”

“I am certain I could far exceed your own abilities if given the chance.”

“A wonderful idea!” Ada cried, drawing them both from their heated stare-down. Julie hadn’t even noticed herself moving so close to Hecate, and she took a self-conscious step back, clearing her throat.

“What’s a wonderful idea?” she asked, wondering if she had been part of the same conversation.

“Hecate will take over art class for the next week.”

“She’s what?” “I beg your pardon?”

They both looked at one another, glaring, then turned back to Ada.

“Surely you do not truly mean to subject me to such menial—”

“Hecate, this is exactly why I’m doing it. You need to learn an appreciation for another form of expression,” Ada explained. She looked far too excited for the absolute horror she was bringing about across Hecate’s face. Julie couldn’t resist a smirk.

“Don’t look so smug, Ms Hubble. This argument between the two of you has gone on long enough. It’s time you learn about the seriousness of magic.”

Hecate’s eyes widened so far, Julie thought her bun might pop. “You cannot mean to have her teach my potions courses? Ada, she is not qualified, she would burn the entire school to the ground.” While she hated to agree with Hecate, she nodded along in fear.

Ada shook her head. “No, of course, I have no intention of putting Ms Hubble in harm’s way. As it so happens, Miss Bat has requested next week off to visit her sister. I was going to summon a supply witch to take over her class, but now I think it might be wiser to bring one in for the potions classes and have Ms Hubble take over chanting.”

Julie grimaced but shrugged. “I think they’ll all be glad when the week is up after they hear me singing, but I’m up for the challenge if she is.”

“You say that as if we have a choice,” Hecate grumbled.

“You do not,” Ada said, smiling sweetly, “however I think you both will get the most from this experience if you look at it as an opportunity to learn something new, rather than a punishment.”

The thought of Hecate trying to direct a class of first years on sculpting was nearly enough to send Julie over the edge into giggletown. It was definitely a punishment.

“Very well,” Hecate agreed first with a haughty sniff. “If you think it best, I shall show you all exactly how an art class should be managed.”

Julie rolled her eyes again. At this rate, she was going to leave the meeting with a raging headache. “Chanting sounds fun,” she said with a nod. Truthfully it sounded boring, and she had not been joking about her inability to carry a tune, but Hecate teaching art was like her birthday and Christmas all thrown together.

They remained a few moments more to iron out the details and left, both waiting until they were far enough from Ada’s door to avoid being heard.

“Care to make it a bit more interesting?” Julie whispered, pulling Hecate’s elbow and tugging her into an alcove. She squeaked in annoyance but did not pull away.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A bet. Whoever lasts longest without needing to go to the other for help, wins.”

This time it was Hecate smirking. “An easy challenge then. Very well, what shall make it worth my while when I succeed?”

Julie released her elbow and pursed her lips in thought.

“What would you want?”

“Your resignation,” Hecate said almost too quickly.

Julie let out a low whistle and hesitated. They were doing this with or without any betting on the side. She had absolutely no reason to stake her career on Ada’s experiment, no matter how badly Hecate might want her to. At the same time, she knew chanting was the easiest class Ada could have given her. Even if her music skills were all over the place, it would hardly be an issue for one week. Hecate was much more likely to crack first.

“Fine,” Julie agreed.

Hecate reared back, a strange mix of confusion and victory flitting across her face.

“Now for what I get,” Julie went on.

The victory flickered away to fear.

There was one thing Julie could think of that made risking her job entirely worthwhile. Something she had wanted for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Something that would ruffle Hecate in ways historically unheard of within the walls of Cackle’s Academy.

“If I win, you have to go on a date with me.”

She had heard of people comically twitching, but never before now had she seen it so up close. “You… you want a date? With…” she paused and swallowed dryly, “with me? Why?”

Julie practically squirmed. She hadn’t even won yet, and already Hecate appeared to be losing her mind over it. Yes, she truly had made the right choice.

“I’ve got my reasons,” she paused, looking Hecate up and down, “just as you’ve got yours for wanting me gone. So what will it be, Hardbroom?”

“If I accept your proposition, there will have to be rules.”

This time she resisted the eye roll, deciding it was best not to prod a grumpy bear. “Like what?”

Hecate thought for a moment. “Going to any other adult for help outside emergencies is a violation of the bet, and should an emergency lead to such a resolution, it is an automatic lose.”

Julie nodded, seeing reason behind it. “Fine. Anything else?”

“The bet begins at first bell Monday morning and ends at last bell on Friday.”

“Sounds good. Is that it?”

Hecate paused. “I believe the bet should remain a secret between us, as well as Ada’s directive. Should anyone ask, we are engaging in a new Cackle’s initiative to broaden our horizons.”

Julie snorted. “Come on, is anyone going to believe that? Keeping the bet a secret is fine, but why lie about the reason for the shakeup?”

“There you go again, proving just how easily I shall win that resignation,” Hecate said, shaking her head. “If you paid any mind to your students, you would have realized by now that one whiff of a chance to cause either one of us trouble will surely result in yet another fiasco of students seeking to watch us fail—or worse, attempting to help us in their own misguided ways. No, it is far better if they think it is of no significant importance.”

“You have a point,” she conceded. “Fine, if that’s all, I can agree to your three rules. Shake on it?”

“Shake?”

“Don’t you witches shake hands to seal a deal?” Julie asked.

Hecate grimaced and looked down at her hands, slyly holding them closer to her sides. “We do not. Deals with witches are sealed through a magical binding.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. I trust you to uphold your half of it without magic forcing us to do anything.”

“It is not as dramatic as you make it out to be, but very well. As I have set the rules, we may seal it through your handshake.” Hecate extended a hand, long black nails stretching threateningly forward. Now faced with the prospect of contact, Julie wondered if she should have just agreed to the magic binding whatever, but it was too late to go back now. She reached out and clasped the cold, spindly hand in her own sweaty, warm palm, hoping Hecate wouldn’t notice, and they shook. Her hand was surprisingly soft for someone who spent all day bottling herbs. If it wasn’t her mortal enemy on the other side, she might have found it difficult to let go.

“May the best witch win,” Hecate announced, pulling her hand away and patting it against the side of her dress. So she had noticed the sweat.

Julie frowned. “But I’m not a witch.”

“Exactly.”

And off she transferred, leaving the air smelling of lavender in an annoyingly appealing way, and Julie with a head spinning full of ideas for how she might torment Hecate on their date when she won.


	2. I Can Do Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd we're back! There's theoretically one more installment to this still to come, but it's possible I'll be persuaded into adding a fourth chapter. I can't even decide how I want my hair, so I really can't be depended on to make these kinds of decisions right now XD Anyways, enjoy.

Julie sat behind the piano in the chanting room, feeling a bit queasy. Much as she had joked about her lack of musical talent, it was a little embarrassing to be displaying it in front of a room full of children. 

“Ms Hubble? Where’s Miss Bat?” Sybil Hallow asked innocently, the first to arrive as the students began pouring in.

“She’s gone on holiday for the week, so I’ll be taking over chanting for now,” she announced, standing to face her class of familiar faces.

“But who’s going to teach art?” Beatrice Bunch asked, taking her seat beside Sybil and Clarice. 

“Miss Hardbroom,” she said tightly, trying not to give away her excitement at the announcement. The room fell silent—a difficult feat for the second years even on a good day.

“Miss Hardbroom is teaching art?” a girl named Juniper asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. “Is this a joke?”

“No joke, just a little, uhm, experiment we’re trying. An initiative to broaden our horizons,” she said, parroting what Hecate had said. It sounded even more ridiculous now, but she kept smiling as if everything was perfectly normal.

“Does that mean everyone is teaching something different? Is Miss Drill doing potions?” 

Julie shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s a supply witch, I believe. Miss Cackle thought it would be too confusing if we all did it at the same time.”

Sybil nodded as if that was perfectly sensible, and no one questioned it further, though she did hear several snickers about HB in the art room.

“So let’s see where Miss Bat’s left off, hmm?” Julie asked, turning to face her notes. They were an absolute mess of sentences that seemed to trail off halfway through. She grabbed randomly at some sheet music and carried it over to the piano. “This one looks fun. It’s called _A Song of Doves._ ”

“Ms Hubble, we haven’t learned that one, it’s very advanced” Clarice announced, hand raised high. Beatrice reached up and grabbed her arm, tugging it down.

“But we were about to next, weren’t we?” Beatrice pressed, looking around at her classmates.

Julie Hubble was not born yesterday. She could tell from their overeager expressions and Sybil’s look of fear that it clearly was not intended for second year students. She also knew it was just a silly song, and if they wanted to have fun so badly, there was no reason they couldn’t express themselves. In fact, why should art be the only avenue for expression when chanting was an artform in and of itself? She smiled. Hecate was so set on magic needing rules—not only would she show her up in art class, she would show her how well chanting could go with a little bit of freedom too.

“Let’s do it,” Julie announced, staring at the piano keys and frowning. Which was an A again?

She plunked out the first few notes, shakily working her way across the page.

“Ms Hubble, I can play piano,” Mabel said, already standing and coming to help. 

Her instructions had been to lead the music herself, but Julie knew she was absolute rubbish at playing. If a student was able and willing to help make things run smoother, who was she to stand in the way? After all, the rules of the bet had only said they couldn’t turn to an adult for help. It said nothing of getting the assistance of a student. What could possibly go wrong?

As it turned out, a lot could go wrong. So, so much could go wrong. Julie scurried out once her class dispersed, rushing to the bathroom as quickly as she could. If she was lucky, she’d be able to wash the dove excrement from her hair before it dried.

Apparently, much to her surprise, chanting had a lot of rules for a lot of reasons. Mabel, overcome with excitement at getting to lead the chant, had kicked up the beat a bit and improvised. Julie only had a vague idea of what happened in chanting. She thought it was mostly a spiritual thing, a way to get in touch with magic and honor it. 

As it turned out, she herself could also go wrong.

The students tried their best to keep up with Mabel’s rendition, but having never done the chant before, they were not at all prepared to work the magic correctly. Julie gave up singing along halfway through class when a dove came flying out of the open piano and tangled itself in her curls.

In the end, they managed to chase the remaining doves out the window, and she bribed them all not to tell Miss Hardbroom with the promise of bringing cupcakes to their next class. As she began rinsing her hair in the sink, she made a mental note to pay Miss Tapioca a visit later.

Julie sighed and leaned against the sink, blowing out a deep slow breath and glancing at herself in the mirror. One class was all it took to completely upend her. How did these witches teach magic _every single day_ and remember all the weird little rules to making it work? She would have to cut Mildred some slack next time she failed a test, because it was hard.

Second period was thankfully her free period for the day, and she thought about hiding in the chanting room and tidying up in the peace and quiet before the third years came, but then Julie had an idea. More than cleaning, she really wanted to be cheered up. It was no small blow to her ego to feel like such a failure so soon into the experiment. Hecate would be teaching Mildred’s class right now, she knew, which also meant Ethel Hallow and her dramatic resistance to all things creative, or perhaps today it would be Enid’s next attempt at creating a splatter mural on the ceiling. Either way, she couldn’t resist taking a peek.

Julie practically ran up the stairs, suddenly feeling rejuvenated. If her morning had been as bad as it was, she at least could take comfort in the fact that Hecate’s was surely going worse.

As luck would have it, the door was propped open a crack. She’d left Hecate with a lesson plan on glazing ceramic pots, including in her instructions the importance of a properly ventilated space. Of course the rule-master had listened. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting—perhaps some screaming? Hecate trembling in a corner cuddling a paintbrush?

The room was utterly silent.

Curious, Julie peered through the crack. They were all silently painting their pots, Hecate sitting at her temporary desk writing notes.

Julie frowned. How could everything be going so smoothly for Hecate at a subject she didn’t even like? She backed away, worried she’d trip one of Hecate’s alarm-like senses, and shuffled back to the chanting room.

She began to straighten the desks and rummage through Miss Bat’s notes more thoroughly, determined not to mess up the next one. Hecate’s success was making the prospect of losing the bet suddenly feel like a true possibility, and she absolutely refused to let that happen.

Lunch rolled around, and Julie’s second class had gone only marginally better than the first. She hobbled into the hall, having had a piano bench unceremoniously drop on her foot after an overly-enthusiastic student caused it to float by mistake.

Hecate took the seat beside her, not a hair out of place. She peered sideways at Julie and smirked into her hand. “Did your classes go well, Ms Hubble?” she asked knowingly. “You have a feather in your hair.” There was too much glee in her expression—someone wasn’t getting their cupcake tomorrow.

“They went fine, as a matter of fact,” she lied. “Just a bit rusty on the piano.”

“I see.” Hecate turned her attention to her meal and began to sip water. Julie watched how her lips formed around the rim of the cup and forced herself to look away.

“How was art?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“The students were perfectly orderly. No painted socks,” she quipped. 

“Orderly? Doesn’t sound very artistic to me,” Julie said, frowning.

“You would be surprised just how creative students can be under the right set of rules to keep it all incident-free.”

“If you say so,” Julie said doubtfully. Not wanting to continue the conversation, because Hecate still smelled really good, and her success was making Julie feel worse by the moment, she turned to her food and took a huge shoveling bite.

Tuesday didn’t go much better. Mabel was banned from the piano this time, but they still made an absolute mess of the chant they swore up and down they had done before. She really did try to stick to the rules, but the classes grew so boring, a student fell asleep. Chanting was still singing—even if admittedly dangerous singing at times—and she absolutely refused to let it be that horrible.

Still, by the time she retired to her rooms for the evening, Julie was beginning to wish she had a better grasp on just how all these rules of magic were meant to function. A knock came on her door, and Julie leapt up. Could it be Hecate coming for help already?

She pulled it open and deflated when Mildred was standing on the other side.

“Gee, thanks Mum, so glad to see you too?” she said, looking amused even as she pushed her way in.

“Sorry, Milly love. I’m happy to see you. I was just hoping it was someone else.”

“Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred guessed, grabbing a biscuit off Julie’s plate and plopping down on the couch to eat it. “These are good,” she said, muffled around a mouth of crumbs.

Julie blanched. “How did you know?” she asked, sitting beside Mildred.

“Just a guess,” she said after she’d finally swallowed. Julie moved the plate out of her reach. “Awe, can’t I have one more?”

“After you tell me everything, you can have the whole plate,” Julie bargained.

Mildred sighed but looked pleased enough. 

“It really was just a guess. The whole class swapping thing is weird. No offense, but your chanting classes have been kind of a mess,” Mildred admitted sheepishly. 

“None taken,” Julie said with a sigh, “you haven’t even seen the worst of it.”

“I’ve heard,” Mildred grimaced. “But Miss Hardbroom hasn’t been doing any better,” she rushed to add.

Julie perked up. “Have there been paint fights? More ceramic toads coming to life?”

Mildred shook her head, still eyeing the biscuits. “No, nothing like that. But Mum, she’s really bad at art. She doesn’t understand _anything_ about it. Today we drew portraits of Miss Cackle.”

“That’s… a bit strange, but it doesn’t sound so bad,” Julie conceded.

“No, but it was bad when she made Felicity cry because she said her picture looked nothing like Miss Cackle. That’s what she’s been like this entire time. If something doesn’t look exactly like she expects to find it in a textbook, she’s completely confused and says it’s wrong. Can’t you help her? I tried to explain to her after class why art can’t be ‘wrong’ but she really didn’t get it and she looked so lost.”

All the excitement Julie had been waiting to feel… deflated. Hecate failing wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she’d expected. In fact, her heart was suddenly aching with the desire to fix it for her.

She handed over the plate of cookies to Mildred and sat back with a very tired sigh. 

“You know, Mum, there was another reason I thought you might be expecting HB,” Mildred admitted around a new mouthful of crumbs. She was watching Julie very closely, like waiting for a reaction.

“Oh? What would that be?” she asked nonchalantly.

“I’ve been thinking we should have this talk for a while now,” Mildred said after a pause. She set her plate to the side and sat up, folding her hands over her knees. At times it shocked her just how grown-up her daughter had become. “Sometimes when two adults have feelings for each othe—”

Julie waved a hand to cut her off. “Woah, missy, we don’t need to have that talk right now. I know all about dating, thanks, and I fail to see what that has to do with Miss Hardbroom.”

Mildred narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, not backing down. “Mum, I know you have a crush on her. You’re actually really bad at hiding it.”

Julie sputtered, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t even like each other.”

“Your eyes light up every time I mention her. When most people hear about someone they don’t like having an equally bad day, they don’t look so sad about it,” Mildred pointed out. “And most importantly, you made your side of the bet a literal date.”

Julie’s heart nearly busted out of her chest.

“How do you know about the bet?!”

Mildred shrugged. “Everyone does by now. A first year overheard you in the hallway. Sound actually carries through this castle really well.”

Julie bent over, placing her face in her hands. This could not be more of a disaster if she tried.

“Well, it’s been nice teaching here while it lasted.”

Mildred cuddled up to her side and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s not so bad, Mum. Everyone wants you to win, you know.”

She looked up, sniffling. “They like my art classes that much?”

“Well… they’re a lot better than HB’s classes.” Mildred’s eyes darted away tellingly.

“Mildred…”

“Look, everyone wants the date to happen, okay? I’m not the only one who noticed how much you like her, so you asking for that wasn’t really a surprise. But everyone thinks it would be good for HB to go on a date.”

“She’s going to kill me,” Julie decided, looking at the ceiling of her rooms for what might very well be the last time. Her ridiculous bet idea had caused the entire student body to discuss the love life of the most private woman she’d ever encountered. “She probably doesn’t even like women.”

“The second years swear she does. Something about an incident with a rose?” Mildred shrugged and scooted back to her side of the couch to grab for the biscuits. “Anyways, given the rules of your bet, I think you’re not breaking them if you offer to help her.”

And through her absolute embarrassment, Julie began to think Mildred might be right.


	3. I Can Do Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I AM SO SORRY! I didn't mean to just completely forget to finish this, but when querying one novel and pounding away to finish another, it can be hard to remember everything else. To make up for it, I've extended this to four chapters. The fourth is already written and I'll make sure it is posted as soon as I edit it so absolutely nothing can distract me. Anyways, thank you for sticking around, I hope you enjoy my favorite gays being gay.

I Can Do Anything

Wednesday went considerably better for chanting. Mildred shook her head when she walked into Julie’s temporary classroom, and she knew it wasn’t getting any better for Hecate. It was further confirmed when she skipped lunch, which wasn’t an entirely rare occurrence, but from the murmurs of the lunchroom, she knew something was up.

Julie had never visited Hecate’s chambers, and the walk up to the imposing wooden door made her stomach sink. What if she wasn’t a welcome visitor?

She thought of turning on her heels and heading to her own room, but then Mildred’s words came back to her. Hecate needed help. Holding her breath, she pivoted around and knocked on the door before she could lose her nerve and flee.

After a pause, the door ripped open, Hecate standing on the other side in all her imposing, sniffly glory. Her eyes settled on Julie and she frowned, but all Julie could focus on was how her hair was down in long cascading waves over a strange leather dressing gown.

“Ms Hubble, is something the matter?” she asked, slightly hoarse.

“No, everything’s fine, I… are you all right?” Julie had never seen Hecate so disheveled. 

“I am just a little under the weather, so if you have nothing pressing, I will just b-”

Julie didn’t like to be a pushy person, but sometimes life required it of her, and in those moments it came as naturally as breathing. She gently shoved her way into Hecate’s room, leaving the woman gaping after her even as she shut the door behind them.

“Ms Hubble, this is wildly inappropriate.”

“I can tell you’ve been crying, so you can drop the ‘under the weather’ charade. Come on, sit.”

Julie didn’t wait for Hecate to reply before taking a seat on a nice velvet green couch before the fire. She would have to get some decorating tips, because her rooms looked like a cheap motel in comparison. Everything about Hecate’s space was somehow both lavish and practical at the same time.

Hecate seated herself far away on a matching wingback chair, and Julie took the moment to truly look at her. The firelight flickered in reflection off her midnight hair, knocking out Julie’s breath. She could happily end every day looking at Hecate like this, or at least until she shifted her gaze to the witch’s face. Her eyes were rimmed with the red stain of too many tears and dark puffy circles were beginning to form beneath. Hecate looked up and deflated. “Have you come to gloat?”

“Nothing to gloat about—just came to offer you some advice.”

“If your advice is that I should not make art my next profession, it is unnecessary, I assure you.”

Julie laughed, unable to stop herself, “Only the same advice I’d give to myself about chanting. I can barely find the right notes on that piano. But no, that’s not what I came to say. I think you should try flower pressing.”

Hecate blinked and scrunched up her nose in a way that made Julie’s heart flutter. “You wish for me to go back to potions?”

“No, no,” Julie laughed again, quieting down when she saw Hecate flinch. “I just mean… okay, let’s try it this way. What is it about art that you’re struggling with? I heard about the, uh, incident with Felicity.”

Hecate huffed and grabbed the arms of her chair. “Her drawing was abysmal.”

“That’s not the point of art. It was just for her to express herself. It doesn’t have to look conventionally good.”

Hecate squinted.

“You’ve been speaking with Mildred,” she guessed.

“More like Mildred’s been lecturing me. Did you know the entire school’s been aware of our bet from the start?”

She stiffened. “I see.” Hecate looked like she wanted nothing more than to fly away with the bats. She needed to speed it up, or she’d lose her chance.

“Look, it’s clear you’re struggling with the whole art thing,” Julie said, putting it out there.

Hecate fiddled with her sleeve, frowning with a little crease in her forehead.

“It just does not make sense, and I do not like when something cannot be understood in a straightforward way.”

That, Julie could believe. Hecate was well and truly a woman set in her skin. Her room was lined with bookcases full of aging tomes, and though she’d yet to have a chance to look at them, Julie would bet that they were probably all educational texts to keep her informed on various subjects. Probably not a single trashy romance in sight.

“You’re never going to like art, in that case, because most of it isn’t meant to make sense so easily. We’ll have to work on that in time, but we can still find some ways to help you finish off the week. If you’re interested, that is,” Julie explained.

“You wish for me to concede to the bet,” Hecate said bluntly.

“Technically the rules said we couldn’t ask for help. Nothing said we couldn’t offer it.”

Hecate opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “You are willing to risk losing to assist me? Why?”

Julie leaned back, getting comfortable on Hecate’s couch. This conversation was the most the woman had ever spoken to her without anger, and she was finding herself enjoying the vulnerability of the moment. “If I’m going to lose to you, it shouldn’t be so easy,” she teased. “I like a fair fight.”

Hecate looked at her with those piercing eyes, and she wondered what they were seeking.

“Very well,” she said. And it wasn’t a thank you, but Julie didn’t think she’d get anything closer to one from Hecate Hardbroom. Accepting help was a big step to start.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to take the girls foraging for flowers and teach them how to press. Lots of rules for correct results to tickle your fancy, and then the girls have a new craft supply to go wild with,” Julie explained. “That will get you through the rest of the week.”

Having said what she came to say, Julie stood, ready to leave Hecate to her privacy for the evening. She had intruded more than enough.

“Ms Hubble, wait,” Hecate called out. 

Julie paused, hand on the doorknob, and looked back.

“I just wanted you to know that running scales is an excellent way to practice the principles of chanting without any magical disasters.”

“Scales, huh?” Julie asked, quirking a smile. “I think that can be managed.”

She was right—scales could be managed. The girls even got a little creative about it, but stuck to the rules of the scales, and all went as peacefully as she could ask. By the end of the day Friday, Julie felt like she understood something new about magic.

Sometimes, expression did require limits insofar as safety was concerned. And when those safety rules were followed, creativity could have a turn to play, if only in a more subtle capacity. Loathe as she was to admit it out loud, Hecate had been right to press for rules sometimes.

Hecate, it seemed, was managing as well. Julie hadn’t chanced another spying mission, but she had heard the consensus from the girls whispering all over the school. They, too, were less secretive than they thought. Mildred only confirmed it further, much to her disappointment. Once Hecate had some structure to follow, she absolutely soared to success. No one even cared that she was spouting off directions left and right, because she only helped them get cleaner, neater results to take and make their masterpieces however they pleased.

As it turned out, plant preservation was a particular specialty of the potions teacher’s. She not only followed Julie’s textbook instructions perfectly, but to the surprise of perhaps not as many people as Julie would have assumed, she had her own magical methods to teach. Spells to freeze them in time, keeping even the tiniest dew drop in place. 

In spite of all of that, it was the creative part of the process where Julie had to begrudgingly admit, Hecate truly shined. Perhaps in part because it was difficult to make such perfect flowers look anything less than incredible, the students loved their projects. Hecate had somehow found her willpower to stop dictating every step and allowed them the freedom to experiment, and it showed. 

Julie hated to admit it, loathed even thinking about what it meant for her job, but Hecate was the clear winner. She may have survived the rest of Chanting class without any further incidents, but scales would hardly serve as a proper course for the long term, and she knew the students weren’t exactly thrilled with excitement over the repetitive drills.

It was with this in mind that Julie once again found herself standing outside Hecate’s door on Friday evening. This time when she knocked, the door swung open all by itself. She peered inside. “Hecate?”

“Ahh, Ms Hubble. Do come in,” she called from her desk in the corner, where she sat behind a neat pile of paperwork. Julie entered tentatively, daring a few more glances around than the last time. Hecate had added some flower arrangements to her décor.

“Looks nice,” Julie said, gesturing to an assembly of greens and golds snaking up the wall. Every so often one of the flowers would open or close.

“Hmm?” Hecate looked up, distracted from her work. Her eyes followed Julie’s hand. “Oh, that was Mildred’s creation. She has quite a talent for colors,” Hecate admitted calmly.

Julie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening. Hecate was complimenting Mildred? She’d gone too far. Changed her too much. Hecate let out a short laugh.

“Please, I am hardly as unforgiving as you seem to believe. I give out praise when it is properly deserved,” she said somewhat stiffly.

Julie nodded. “Sorry to interrupt. It’s just…. Well, it’s Friday,” she said with a shrug.

“Is it indeed?” Hecate asked, pursing her lips. She waved her hand and the pen she’d been magically moving across her paper fell to the side. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the other side of her desk.

Julie took a seat, nervously scrunching up her hands. “I suppose you want my resignation in this weekend?” she asked anxiously. It was just a job, after all. She’d lost fair and square. How many had she been through? Julie winced at the thought—too many to count. Mildred would get used to her leaving for yet another. It was only a matter of time, and she’d always known that. Every extended second in this magical world where she didn’t belong was just another second of luck, and luck always ran out eventually.

“Perhaps you may wish to hold off until after our date? If you are so inclined towards leaving, that is,” Hecate said quietly, clearing her throat just subtly enough to be heard at the end. She looked up from her desk and crossed her hands in front of herself, the picture of calm in all but her eyes.

“W-what?” Julie asked, feeling like she might teeter off the side of the chair.

“You have won, Ms Hubble. Do you not still wish to claim your victory?”

Was Julie imagining things, or did Hecate almost look afraid she didn’t? 

“No,” she said quickly. Hecate frowned.

“Oh. Very well, then. If you no longer wish to-”

“No, I mean, yes I still want to go.” Julie closed her eyes and shook her head like it might sort itself out, but it was still just as jumbled. “I’m just confused. You clearly won the bet.”

Hecate smirked. “Whilst my endeavor may have ended more successfully, I think we must also take into consideration the disasters at the start of the week, as well as the aid you imposed upon my methods. Had I stuck to my original plans, there might have been more tearful incidents. And while I do not deny that my teaching methods can at times come across as a little…”

“Mean?”

“Severe.” Hecate’s eyes flashed. “And while I do not like to coddle my students, it is never my intention to end up with one in tears. Therefore, I consider that to have been a greater failing on my part than any of the little incidents in your chanting lessons that hardly differed from those regularly caused by Miss Bat and her impromptu napping.”

“So you’re saying… I won?”

“Indeed. You have won your date, and if you still wish to teach at Cackle’s, the results of our bet will not be the reason for your termination.” 

Julie noted somewhat sourly that Hecate made no mention of ceasing her campaign to get her fired, but she would take the victory she could get.

“So I’ll pick you up here at 6 tomorrow?” Julie asked, a cheeky grin taking over her face. She was taking Hecate Hardbroom on a _date_.

“No.” Hecate pursed her lips.

“No? But you said…”

“The terms were a date, but you never indicated that it was yours to plan,” Hecate said pointedly. “Come at 9.”

“At night?” Julie cringed. “The restaurant won’t be open for us to eat that late.”

“I will make the suitable arrangements.”

“Erm, okay,” Julie said hesitantly. “Can you at least tell me what I should wear?”

Hecate looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I worry your usual wardrobe will be unsuitable to the dress code of this establishment.”

Julie’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline. “Excuse me?”

Hecate blushed. “I only mean, it is very strict. I believe your kind refer to it as ‘Cocktail Attire?’”

“Ahh,” Julie said with a nod. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got that covered. I can be full of surprises.”

“Very well.” Hecate seemed satisfied. “Then on top of that it would be advisable for you to wear something warm.”

“See you at 9 then,” Julie said, standing and heading for the door before Hecate could add any more complicated instructions. She was already panicking her way through her closet, mentally trying to think if she owned anything that didn’t have any hidden paint stains.

“I shall look forward to it.”

Julie nearly skipped down the halls, not even caring that she’d be begging Mildred to help her alter something in the morning. She didn’t have to leave her job _and_ she had a date with Hecate. A date Hecate was looking forward to, at that.

And like a pit dropping right down into the center of her stomach, Julie froze in the middle of the hall.

She had a _date_ with Hecate. 

And Hecate was planning it.

What the hell did that mean?


	4. Better Than You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! Just a heads up if you didn't notice, I have posted TWO chapters today. So if you haven't caught up, make sure you read chapter 3 first.
> 
> Now please enjoy my excessive softness.

Better Than You

By some sort of miracle, Julie found a little black dressed shoved into the back of her closet. With a bit of magical help from Mildred, she managed to get it straightened out without tracking down an iron. This was a considerable victory, as Julie hated ironing and generally stuck to clothing that would seldom require it. 

Normally she wouldn’t find herself interested in going anywhere with such a strict code of dress. She only owned the piece in the first place because she’d been tricked into attending a black tie wedding with a date and hadn’t wanted to back out after promising to go. Now, she felt grateful for it. Much as the avoided anything stuffy, Hecate had chosen it, and she wanted to know why.

She had seemed almost a little shy to be saying it, Julie realized as she thought back over their encounter. She’d been so shocked by Hecate’s willingness to concede the bet, she hadn’t been paying proper attention to how she spoke about the date. She wondered what other little details might have been missed.

What she hadn’t missed was any information about food. There simply was none. Was she supposed to eat first? Nine was a bit late for an evening meal, but witches did all kinds of odd things, she’d found. Perhaps dining late at night was typical for a date. Mildred had no useful answer, and so when dinner rolled around, she’d walked carefully into the dining hall to see what Hecate was doing. If she ate, Julie would follow suit. If she didn’t, she’d pretend she came to help supervise.

Hecate had gathered a plate but eaten very little, and Julie still didn’t know what to make of it. She settled on a smaller portion than usual and hoped for the best. Eating less wasn’t very hard when it came to the usual Cackle’s fare.

Julie paced outside Hecate’s door until 9:00 on the dot and knocked, figuring punctuality seemed to make Hecate happy. When the door opened, she wished she hadn’t waited. Her jaw swung open as if on a hinge.

“Hello.”

Hecate was _beautiful_.

She always was, of course, but there was something so different about seeing her like this. She still wore a long black dress, but it was looser around the arms and sheer, pillowing out and coming back in as cuffs around her wrists. It cinched at the waist and cascaded downward, sweeping across the floor with little silver stars sewn into the fabric. Her hair, out from the usual bun, bounced down in loose curls all the way to her hips. Julie swallowed.

Hecate was still staring at her, pink tinting her cheeks, and Julie realized she hadn’t said a word.

“You look lovely.” She nearly kicked herself. Lovely didn’t even begin to cover how breathtaking Hecate was.

“Thank you. As do you,” Hecate said politely. 

Julie tugged self-consciously at her dress, suddenly feeling woefully underdressed even in the fanciest thing she owned. “Is it all right?” She winced.

But Hecate’s face never fell at the sight of her. She roved her eyes up and down, like she’d just been waiting for permission to properly look. The pink deepened.

Hecate cleared her throat. “Yes, I would say that is more than adequate.” She looked away, but Julie didn’t miss the curious desire flashing through her eyes. This was her night with Hecate, and she was going to savor every speck of it. Especially the fact that Hecate seemed to _like_ how she looked.

“Shall we?” Julie asked, holding out her arm.

Hecate peered down the hallway, but the girls were already in their rooms for the evening. It was just the two of them. She put on her cloak and handed a spare to Julie, who was embarrassed to realize she’d forgotten Hecate’s instructions to bring a coat. Softly, she wrapped her hand around Julie’s elbow and allowed her to lead the way.

“Uhm, I don’t actually know where we’re going,” she realized.

Hecate chuckled deeply, sending a shiver down her spine. “Out to the broom shed.”

“Oh,” Julie said, frowning. “Were the reservations booked?”

Hecate looked down at her strangely. “We need to fly, Ms Hubble. My broom is housed there.”

Julie hadn’t anticipated this and inhaled sharply.

“Is that a problem?” Hecate asked, sounding doubtful. “I suppose I could transfer us, but long distances are not ideal on the inexperienced.”

Julie shook her head. “No, no. Flying is great.” All she could see were images of herself tumbling towards the ground.

She needn’t have worried, as it turned out. Hecate was an excellent flyer, and though it was of little shock considering her skills in everything else magical, feeling it was another thing entirely.

Julie sat behind Hecate on the broom as they soared high over the trees, arms wrapped around her waist perhaps a little too tightly, but to Hecate’s credit she never complained. The wind whipped past their ears, silencing any hope of conversation, but Julie found she didn’t mind. Hecate was surprisingly warm. She smelled like roses tonight, and the wind kept wafting it back to Julie. Everything about her was so tantalizing, she forgot she was trying not to look down.

They were so high, the clouds sometimes surrounded them, but Julie stayed still and tight. She had no idea where they might be or how fast they were going, until suddenly Hecate began to pull them lower. There were more trees, but nowhere near the little town Julie had come to know. She nearly stumbled off at the sight of a towering cliff beside them and closed her eyes as Hecate took them right towards it, certain they were going to crash.

Instead they drifted right through.

“It’s a hidden entrance,” Hecate yelled back, undoubtedly noticing the increased tension around her waist.

Curious, Julie opened her eyes. They were in a sort of cliffside cave, lit all along the length by candles glittering everywhere they could fit. It was mesmerizing. Somehow Hecate managed not to grow distracted by them and flew around curves and up hills, until finally there was soft piano music playing in the near distance and Hecate landed as swiftly as she’d taken off.

“Good evening, ladies,” a man in a strange sort of suit said. Julie guessed it must be formal wizardwear. “Might I take your cloaks and broom.”

Hecate handed hers over in one swift move while Julie struggled with the unfamiliar clasp.

“Allow me,” Hecate whispered. Her soft hands gently moved Julie’s fumbling fingers aside, and she gasped. “I apologize. They’re always cold after a flight.”

“I don’t mind,” Julie said gently, and she meant it. She would give anything for another chance to hold them.

That chance, it seemed, would not be now. Hecate was quick to hand over the second cloak, and they continued further ahead. “Reservation for Hardbroom,” she announced professionally.

“Of course, Miss Hardbroom. Lovely to see you this evening. Our best table is awaiting you. Right this way,” another man said, clearly having expected them. It was strange to be treated with such importance.

“I come here after hours on occasion,” Hecate whispered to her in answer of her unspoken question.

As they followed him through an arch in the stone, they emptied out into a large spacious room. There were tables scattered around, each lit dimly by candlelight. The ceiling high above sparkled like stars. She couldn’t help wondering why Hecate came to a restaurant after hours. Did she usually hide her dates? 

They did not stop at any of the empty tables, though Julie’s stomach grumbled at the sight of the food. She was glad she’d opted for the smaller portion at dinner, mouth already watering. He took them all the way to the end of the room, where a long row of deep red curtains lined the wall. Pulling one aside, he held it open for them to enter.

Julie gasped.

There was a small alcove hidden in the wall, a bubble of glass jutting out into the dark night sky. A stretched out table for two sat in the center facing outward, with a cozy deep orange sofa behind it. Hecate reached out another hand to help Julie lower herself into their seat before joining her at the other end.

“May I offer you anything to drink?” he asked politely from their side.

Hecate ordered some sort of wine that sounded French, and Julie nodded in agreement, not caring what it was as long as it calmed her nerves. He left them with two menus and closed the curtain behind him.

“This is… wow,” Julie said, unable for once to find her words. “It doesn’t seem real. Are you sure I’m allowed in?”

Hecate smirked. It was strange to be seated side by side on a date, but looking out at the view, she understood why. From inside this bubble, it felt like they were right there in the sky with the rest of the stars.

“I can assure you, it is very much real. It is unusual for a nonmagical person to dine here, as I’m sure you can imagine it is rather difficult to find without magic, but perfectly allowed. I come here on occasion to study the constellations, but I have never had the pleasure of bringing anyone along to dine.”

“Liking the change so far?” Julie asked teasingly.

“That depends.”

“On?” She leaned towards Hecate, unable to get enough of the reds glowing through her hair in the candlelight.

“How much you speak,” Hecate quipped.

Julie rolled her eyes, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling out. She leaned back away and looked down at the menu, squinting to read it in the candlelight.

“Any suggestions?”

Hecate shrugged. “I have never even seen the menu,” she admitted.

“Can you actually see it now?”

The witch was silent for a moment, then shook her head. “I am afraid not.”

The waiter returned, bottle of wine in hand. He poured it and Hecate tasted it, looking imploringly to Julie to offer her a taste as well. Feeling she knew very little about wine, she shook her head and dipped it in deference to Hecate’s opinion. The witch nodded in satisfaction for him to go ahead and fill their glasses.

“Have you had an opportunity to look at the menu?” he asked politely.

She shared a conspiratorial grin with Hecate, then looked up at the waiter with a smile. “We’ll both have what the chef recommends.”

“Excellent, Madame. I shall return shortly with a basket of bread while you wait.”

She managed to hold her composure until the curtain was closed, then burst out in laughter. “Oh, I hope we don’t regret that decision. For all I know, this place only serves raw octopus.”

Hecate grimaced. “I could have increased the light.”

“Now you say it,” Julie said, still laughing to herself. “No, I like the adventure of it. It’s a night of trying new things.” She raised her glass and held it out towards Hecate.

She lifted hers thoughtfully. “To new experiences,” Hecate agreed, and they clinked their glasses together.

“So tell me why you pretended to lose.”

Hecate nearly chocked on her wine.

“Ms Hubble, I assure you, your victory was entirely your own.”

“Julie, please. We’re on a date,” she reminded. “You might need to get used to using it.”

“Julie.” Hecate paused and smiled like she enjoyed the sound of saying it. “I lost fairly.”

“Well what I think,” Julie began, “is that you realized you actually wanted to go on a date with me.”

“Nonsense,” Hecate quipped, stretching again for her wine.

Julie reached out and gently touched her wrist, lowering it back to the table. Hecate turned to face her, arching a brow in question. They were so close, she could feel her breath bouncing off her lips.

“I think you like me,” she whispered.

“You are far too arrogant.”

“So are you, and I still like you,” Julie teased lightly.

“You… do?” Hecate leaned away, hesitant. She pulled her hand away and fixed her napkin neatly across her lap.

“Wasn’t that obvious when I asked for a date?”

“I considered it might be your way of mocking my obvious feelings.”

Julie couldn’t help it. She laughed. The confession had been so wholeheartedly truthful, she could nearly believe it. 

Hecate looked like she’d been kicked and lurched away, but Julie put a hand out to stop her.

“No, no I’m not laughing at you,” she said quickly, trying to catch her breath. “It’s just that I had no idea. Truly, you weren’t obvious. In fact, I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I do not,” Hecate said carefully after a pause.

“Good.”

“Good,” Hecate repeated.

They sat silently, just appraising one another. Julie was the first to break the gaze, leaning back into the sofa and looking up at the clear sky above them.

“So teach me about the constellations. Which one is that?” she asked, pointing to a random cluster of stars.

“It is not one. However,” she reached up, soft hand skimming the length of Julie’s arm and settling over her outstretched hand. She guided her gently to the left and paused, “this one is Draco.” She slowly moved their hands the length of it, until Julie’s eyes were able to settle on the stars she meant.

She turned to face Hecate, lips just barely grazing her hair. “Beautiful,” she said.

Hecate turned, perhaps hoping to see her reaction, and jolted slightly. Their lips were so close.

“Thank you for being a gracious loser,” she whispered.

“My pleasure.”

Hecate closed the distance, pushing their lips together. For all the coldness of her hands, her mouth was warm. She felt a fire rush through her and wondered if that was how it felt to hold magic in her hands.

Here under the stars, the rules did not apply, but Julie found herself unwilling to point it out to Hecate. She kissed her lips again and again, savoring every moment.

Eventually, they would have to return to Cackle’s. Return to the gossip springing down the halls. Return to Hecate’s constant attempts to get her fired and her constant attempts to rile her up.

But they could have these stars and these moments.

And Julie hoped they would have them for a long time to come.


End file.
